A Tale Of Two Overly Enthusiastic Wingmen
by abitheimpala
Summary: When Nico goes to Percy with the intention of telling him how he feels, the last thing he expects is to walk out of there with the love of his life thinking he has a thing for Jason. Cue awkwardness as Percy tries to set them up with each other. Basically just a hardcorePercyXNicoXJason bromance.
1. The Confession

** Nico **

This was it.

I was really going to do it.

I sucked in a deep breath of air as I gazed at the unoffending door in front of me. It was possibly the most terrifying thing I had ever seen – and I'm not one to say that lightly; I've seen some pretty freaky-ass shit.

I shuddered as air burst its way from my lungs in a long gasp. My heart was beating so loudly I was almost certain that the boy on the other side of the door would hear it.

Wringing my hands together, I closed my eyes in an attempt to quieten my racing thoughts. I could do this. I had promised myself, I'd promised that if we got out of this alive that I'd tell him.

We would probably die soon anyway, and then it wouldn't even matter.

I _had_ to. Because if I didn't do it now, I never would.

Holding this thought at the forefront of my mind, with the wish that is would give me the strength to do what needed to be done, I raised a heavy hand, and knocked. The sound seemed to reverberate around the darkly lit hallway, far louder than necessary, and my eyes instantly darted to the side, checking shadow lurkers.

For the longest time, there was no response. Well, that was it then. How unfortunate. I'd have to try again tomorrow. Or not.

I stepped back, shoving my hands deep into the pockets of my jacket, ready to disappear back into the darkness from whence I came. The crow's nest really was rather comfortable, and I was quite looking forward to getting back to it. Just sleep off this short bout of madness – that's what I need-

This thought pattern was cut off by the door creaking outwards, a sliver of light falling at my feet, glancing off the sword that hung from my waist.

I wasn't sure why I'd brought it. It's not like Percy was going to pull a knife on me after I made my confession.

Hopefully.

It was more of a good luck charm, a safety blanket. Most people had teddies; I had a sword. Basically, that was the entire story of my upbringing.

'Nico? Whattcha doing here?'

The sleepy voice broke into my thoughts, shattering all sense of control I had managed to retain.

Oh Gods, I was going to faint, or throw up, or something. I couldn't do this. I couldn't.

But I _have_ to.

I had to let him know. I couldn't cope with the constant tension between us. He thought I loved Annabeth, and I knew he felt sorry for me. I had no idea if Percy being aware of my feelings for him would be any better, but I had to hope. If I didn't have hope, I didn't have anything.

I clenched my fists in their pockets, biting my lip, working up the courage to raise my gaze. It travelled to the open doorway, to bare feet, up tanned legs, past dark shorts hanging just a _little_ too low on his waist, over his naked chest, the leather cord resting in the hollow of his neck, to rest on his face.

_Oh Gods, he's so fucking attractive._

Sea green eyes looked curiously at me through the receding haze of sleep. His hair was adorably sleep-tousled, pillow creases marking his cheek in an odd tattoo. I felt a bolt of heat burn through my body, and had to work hard to keep my blush under control. So much bare skin was _not _doing good things to my sanity.

I couldn't help but admire his chiselled chest, sun tanned and crisscrossed with raised white scars, much like my own. His bronzed skin glinted in the low light, muscles rippling beneath sinewy flesh. Percy wasn't super muscular, like Frank, but he wasn't as weedy as Leo. He was a happy medium, skinny but toned, bulky in all the right places, but not overtly so.

The line of his hip bones formed a 'v' shape, drawing the eye downwards, to where his shorts hung precariously on his hips, as though if he moved too rapidly, they might … just … slip off.

I batted this train of thought away. Nothing good could come of it, and I needed composure if I was going to carry through with what I intended.

Yeah, composure. I'd be getting so much of that while faced with this vision in front of me.

The vision in question was looking at me expectantly, and I remembered suddenly that 'Whattcha doing here?' wasn't a rhetorical question.

Pinning my gaze to the floor, I began to study the oh-so-interesting patterns of metals rivets which danced their way across it. Withdrawing my hands from their pocketed safety, I began to pull at the drawstring tie of the hoodie I wore under my jacket.

'It's, ah, it's nothing much really, I just wanted to talk. But it's not that important. I can come back later. Yeah. Yeah that might be good, I'll come back later.'

As I stumbled my way through what hopefully formed a cohesive sentence, I started to edge backwards. However, my escape attempt was hacked off at the knees by the almighty kindness of Mr Perseus Jackson himself. He stepped further from the doorway, closer to where I awkwardly loitered, running a strong hand through his dark hair.

'It's obviously not nothing.' he replied, concerned in both speech and expression. 'You wouldn't have woken me up in the middle of the night unless it wasn't something serious. What's happened? Have we been attacked? Has the ship broken again?'

Now that was where he was wrong. Shit, if I'd know he looked this adorable when he woke up, I'd be inventing _at least_ a crisis a night. I mean, it would be too hard to hire a rock giant or five to throw boulders at us. And heck, it might mean being killed or mortally wounded, but for this … let's just say it would be worth it.

Well not _this_ specifically. Yes, I'd still be cool with maiming, but for an entirely different reason. At the moment I was ready to start willing the ground to swallow me up - and when you're a child of Hades that takes on whole new dimensions.

My voice was shaky as I answered, and I hoped to Gods he wouldn't noticed.

'Well, no, it's … um, it is _something.'_ Yes, duh, Di Angelo, of course it's _something_. Spit it out, you fucking idiot. 'But – but nothing super-serious. The ship … it's fine, and no-one's dead, well, uh, as far as I know anyway …'

I looked up to find those deep eyes regarding me curiously, drawing me in, urging me to tell the truth. Locking our gazes, I forced myself to stay balanced as I replied.

'This is – this is something personal. But I just … really need to tell you about it.'

He softened as he heard my words, a small sigh escaping his lips.

'Man, it's been a while since I've heard the likes of that from you. I thought you'd grown u too much to need my advice.'

I wanted so badly to tell him that wasn't it; I trusted him and respected him as much as I ever had, more so even. And that was the problem. I couldn't be in his presence without a physical pain stabbing through me, a reminder of the fact that we could never be together, that I had no chance for a future with him and it would be best to accept that now. That I couldn't know that and act like I always had around him, and _that's_ why I avoided him.

And I could. Once I had made my confession I could tell him all of this. I could make him realise that I didn't hate him; quite the opposite, in fact. That he needn't be wary about leaving Annabeth and I alone – in fact, apart from one of the girls, I would be the best person to lock in a room with her. Heck, we might come to blows over who was more in love with him, but I would never actually _hurt_ her.

Though, unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for my battling counterpart.

Percy had stepped to the side, propping the door open with one arm while the other hand hooked into his waistband, pushing those short to all new levels of precariousness.

I couldn't quite say if I was happy about this or not.

He was watching me with interest, and I decided I had demonstrated more than enough of my 'standing around like a drunken goldfish' act. I quickly stepped forward, gaining confidence with each stride. Admittedly, there _was_ a small voice inside my head screaming at me that I was going the wrong way, that I should turn around and get the hell out of here now, but I just ignored it. I was getting pretty good at that.

It was only as I stood directly before the doorway that I realised in order to get inside the room, I had to duck under Percy's very attractive, very unclothed, arm.

Forcing myself to do so without visibly reacting was harder than it sounded – the top of my head brushed against his elbow, even as my arm rubbed past his chest.

My bare hand brushed over his flat stomach, and I could feel the hyperventilation beginning to set in. I touched him. I _touched_ him.

Oh Gods.

Unsure whether to laugh, or cry hysterically, I settled for swiftly travelling to a darkened corner on the other side of the room, as far away from Percy as I possibly could, and then proceeded to pretend that the last minute had never occurred.

I wonder what it would have felt like if I did have my jacket or my jumper on. My bare shoulder, rubbing across his chest … or better yet, if I was completely shirtless. His bare flesh on mine … the heat as our bodies collided, chests flush against one another and chins bumping as I tilted my face upwards, just enough that our lips could –

No.

Get a fucking hold of yourself Di Angelo. Now is not the time, or the place. Indulge in your perverted little fantasies when you aren't in the presence of their lead role.

Percy was closing the door as I looked up, and I was intensely relieved that he therefore didn't witness the blush which bloomed across my cheeks as I battled back all thoughts of my daydreams.

I watched intently as he turned back, all golden skin and dark hair and sea-green eyes. Pulling my gaze away, I glanced around at the room.

It was pretty much exactly the same as Hazel's – though somewhat bigger. A bed pushed against one wall, a desk against another. Portholes rang along the right side, situated so that I could see straight out of them, but Percy would have to bend a little. An armchair sat near the desk, and a footlocker rested at the bed end. Same old, same old.

But everything else was distinctly Percy; from the piles of clothes strewn across the floor, enough for at least the past week, to the battered old shield that lay across his desk, depicting scenes of Annabeth, Grover, Tyson and Percy himself during the quest for the golden fleece. A green and blue glowing anemone-thing 'blooped' in the corner, tentacles waving. I baulked a little as I realised what stood next to it: a three inch high figurine of Hades.

I recognised it, of course I did. I'd _given_ him the fucking thing.

Hades mythomagic statue,

His most recent set of clothes lay bundled at the end of the bed, Riptide resting across them, and I found myself wishing he'd put some on. Absurd, I know, but I needed to be in peak condition if I was seriously going to make this confession, and would therefore prefer if I didn't totally zone out while gazing at his chest every few seconds.

Percy crossed the room, picking his way over and around the piles of junk with a practised step. Retrieving Riptide from where it lay, he kicked the clothes under his bed. No chance of him clothing himself any further, it appeared. Springs creaked a little as he settled onto the mattress, pushing the rumpled bed covers aside.

'Hey Nico, come sit here.' he called, patting the space beside him. 'There's no need to hover all the way over there; I don't bite.'

What my mind screamed was _'Yes!'_, but luckily my mouth was a little more in control, and instead replied with a polite, yet somewhat frosty,

'I'm fine thanks.'

Cue awkward silence.

I supposed that since I was the one who had invited myself into Percy's room at an insane hour of the morning, by all rights I should be the one to initiate conversation.

But how do you broach a topic like this? Do you simply plunge in headfirst with the confession? Like 'Hey Percy, just thought you might like to know that I don't really have a thing for your girlfriend; in fact it's _you_ that I'm practically fucking in love with. Sleep well!'

I knew it wouldn't be that easy. He would have questions, comments, concerns. He'd want to know when this had happened, what had caused it, and if I'd told anyone else.

He'd want to apologise about the fact he could never feel the same way.

Was that really what I wanted? His sympathy? Was that really any better than wariness? I wanted to relieve the tension between us, but wouldn't confessing my feelings just make it even worse? He'd be watching how I reacted to his every movement, his words. There would be no more awkward one-armed bro hugs, no more accidental brushing against each other. Those things were fine when you were just bros, but as soon as your bro was in love with you, they got a little weird.

The one perk to having a thing for dudes is that you can stare at them all you want and no-one thinks any worse of you. With a chick, you look at them for three seconds and everyone's like 'Oh man, you totally have a thing for her.'

But when it's another boy, everyone just assumes that you look up to him, admire him, respect him.

Because of course it could never be anything more.

I already knew that Jason noticed more than he ought to. The occasional side glances I sent Percy's way, the fact that I couldn't help but smile when he cracked a joke – to the casual onlooker, these meant nothing. But Jason, with his new found knowledge, weighed everything far heavier than that.

Could I cope with Percy doing the same? Forced to calculate his every move around me?

The more I thought about it, the worse this idea seemed.

But I had committed to it. I had sworn on the River Styx I would tell Percy how I felt, and that wasn't the sort of oath that you could go back on.

Lifting my gaze, I met Percy's eyes. He looked concerned; apparently he could tell this was serious.

Eyes locked with his, I edged tentatively closer, watching for any sudden moves. I eventually reached him, and awkwardly settled on the edge of the bed, as far away from him as one could possibly be in the space of a single mattress. Ducking my head a little, I peeked out at him from behind a fringe of hair.

'Sorry. Didn't mean to snap.' I mumbled.

He seemed surprised by any sort of apology, but didn't say anything, simply waiting patiently, giving me the time I needed to gather my thoughts. I lined up the words I wanted, constructed them into perfectly-formed sentences, before finally opening my mouth.

'So, uh, obviously you've realised I have something to tell you.'

Silence is my only reply. Yep, off to a marvellous start; let's just reiterate everything we've already said.

I threaded my fingers through each other, pulling my arms further into my jacket in the hopes that it might consume me, as Percy shifted slightly, setting the mattress springs creaking once more.

'Well, it's, it's something a bit … awkward.'

At this, Percy raised his eyebrows. Apparently that had been unexpected. I felt my face begin to heat, and, untangling my right hand from my left, scrubbed at my cheeks with it, as though I could scour the blush away. Instantly defensive, I shot him a glare, made somewhat less threatening by the stuttering that accompanied it.

'B-but you have to swear on the River Styx not to tell anyone! Ever!' I demanded, crossing my arms as I eyed him, dared him to retaliate. He held up his hands, the universal gesture for surrender, and voiced his reply in the manner of one who couldn't believe he was being doubted.

'If it's personal, of course I wouldn't tell anyone!' he exclaimed. 'You know me Nico; I'm a decent guy.'

Yes, yes you are a decent guy, and that's why we're in this situation.

'Swear it.' I growl back, unswayed by his plea. There was no way in Hades I was letting this get out. I wasn't certain that Percy would be able to keep anything a secret from Annabeth, and that's why all precautions were necessary. She may be able to sense he was hiding something, but if he told her he'd sworn on the River Styx not to reveal it, then there was nothing he could do.

'Alright then.' retorted Percy. 'If you so doubt my honour so seriously, I suppose I must.'

Placing a hand on his heart, boy-scout style, he regarded me as he spoke.

'I, Perseus Jackson, do solemnly swear an oath on the River Styx that I shall keep any secrets that you, Nico Di Angelo, do reveal to me.' He extended his arm as he finished, palm outstretched. 'Shake on it?'

I batted the hand away, not sure if I could cope with any more physical contact at the moment. i was _trying_ to concentrate, but Gods, he was being unhelpful. As I replied, I knew for certain that my face was the approximate shad of a tomato.

'Stop being stupid. You sound like we're taking wedding vows or something.'

If only.

He gave a half laugh at that comment, expression somewhere between a grin and a smirk, as he ran a hand through his hair, toned chest flexing nicely with the movement.

I had to do it. I had to do it now, before I lost all sense of control and simply melted into a pile of gibbering mush.

I sucked in a breath of air, diving in without warning, wanting to get all the offending words out of my mouth, to free myself of this weight which threatened to pull me under.

'Well, uh, you see, I kind, well, I like … I have a thing for, um,'

Getting it out. Yep. That's definitely what that was.

Percy's eyes softened as he looked at me, his expression sad and slightly wistful, kind of like a kicked puppy. His voice was so quiet I had to strain to hear it.

'Nico, if this is about, you know, how you fell about Annabeth … it's okay.'

Oh Gods, why did he have to be so understanding? He thought I was in love with his girlfriend, and here he was comforting me. This would be so much easier if I could just dislike him, if the knowledge that he had no interest in me, or any guys at all, could turn me off so much I could just get over it. But for me; it didn't work that way. Maybe it was slight masochistic tendencies shining through, but I didn't care if he never loved me, if I had to see him grow up with Annabeth, get married, have children. As long as I could be with him. Then everything would be okay.

'No, no. It's not about that. Well, it is, sort of anyways, but …' I floundered for the right words, hands flailing before me as though I could snatch them from the air.

'You see Percy, I-I don't love Annabeth.'

He jolted back, shocked.

'You-you don't?' he breathed, disconcerted. 'But-but I thought … I was sure of it … I mean, the way you look at her …'

He was halted by the sight of my furious head shaking. My heart lurched as I began to reveal its secrets. I was starting to feel slightly ill.

'No. No no no. It's … Percy … I – I don't even like _girls.'_

I was staring down at my hands now, clenching them so tightly I could feel what remained of my chewed-down nails digging into my palms. I gritted my teeth together and curled my toes, waiting for the explosion of horror and disappointment in me that was certain to come.

But there was only silence.

Eventually, I couldn't take it any longer. I glanced quickly upwards, meaning to only let my eyes alight on him for a fraction of a second. When i saw his face, however, I couldn't pull my gaze away.

Eyes widened, his mouth slightly open, all I could sense was surprise. Many emotions danced in his eyes; disbelief, pity, and a constant, underlying sadness. He finally spoke, voice cracking a little under the strain of emotion.

'Oh – oh Gods Nico. I'm so sorry. I – I mean, I don't know what to say. Does, does anyone else, do they know? Or have you just … did you have to keep it to yourself?'

I wondered if I should tell him about my meeting with Cupid, and how I had been forced to reveal my feelings in front of Jason.

But no; it would be better not too. I didn't want them talking about me behind my back, pitying me. I would let him think that he was the only one I had told.

'No. I – I don't really bring it up in conversations very much.'

My weak attempt at a joke fell flat on its face; Percy was far too deep in thought to notice anything humorous. There was a cute little crinkle between his eyes, and his lips slanted downwards at the corners. I just wanted to take his face in my hands and kiss the frown right off, but I feared that may just multiply the internal torment, rather than doing anything to relieve it.

I stayed quiet after this, wanting to give him some time to process these things before dumping the next insane shitstorm upon him.

I'm not sure how the radio silence was going down from Percy's end, but on mine it was boarding the awkwardness intensity roller coaster, and beginning the upwards climb. I was busy picking at a stray strand of thread peeking out from the seam of my jeans when his next words came.

'Is, is it - is there anyone … in particular?'

Now was it. Now was the time for confession.

'Yes … And the thing I wanted to tell you is, well, that person is …'

It was about then when my brain caught up with my mouth. _'Holy fuck, what are you doing?!' _It shrieked furiously. _'You're going to completely destroy your friendship! He'll never want to speak to you again!'_

I told my brain to shut the fuck up and that i knew what I was doing. I'd thought about all this. I was ready for the consequences. Wasn't I?

Oh sweet Jesus this was too fucking much.

What was I even thinking? I couldn't tell him how I felt; he'd wouldn't even be able to look me in the eye. And what about me … I didn't think I could stand being in the same _room_ as him. I'd be constantly on edge, certain not to say or do anything that could be taken the wrong way. This would herald the end of friendship, of that I was certain.

I couldn't do it. So what if it meant any chance of a romance between us was even further decreased. At least I could stay with him, be near him.

Percy, surprisingly enough, seemed to realise that I was feeling a little unsure about opening up completely. I guess it was just so bloody obvious even he couldn't miss it. He scooted forward, laying a comforting hand on my knee that kinda made me want to cry, and looked deep into my eyes.

'It's okay Nico.' he said soothingly, kindly. 'I'm cool with whatever decision you've made. It doesn't weird me out or anything. You've obviously been carrying this for a long time; it'll feel better if you get it off your chest.'

Oh fuck. Now he expected me to tell him who the lucky guy was.

And I had just decided there was no way in Hades he could ever know.

I glanced around frantically, looking for ideas, a way to escape, a weapon with which to concuss him … anything that would get me the heck out of here. Coming up empty handed, I was forced to look him in the eye and give a grimace-smile, reverting to Plan B.

Unfortunately, all Plan B seemed to consist of was a lot of stammering and 'No, I – I didn't really mean that, y'know …'

Percy patted my knee, eyes staring into my soul with all the acceptance he could muster. Yep. I was feeling pretty fucking accepted.

Didn't mean I was going to tell him though.

We remained in the exact same position for all of two minutes before I finally pulled away, sliding off the bed and backing away from the boy who remained on it.

'Come on Nico.' he said, jutting out his bottom lip and turning the puppy dog eyes up to full blast. 'You know you can tell me anything.'

I just shook my head, heading for the door.

'Pleaaaaase …'

The pleading tone followed me. Gods, this was going to get irritating fast.

Back to him, I placed a hand on the doorknob, cool metal against my feverish skin, ready to take flight. When I spoke, i was glad to find that my tone had reverted to its usual frostiness.

'I'm sorry, but I really can't say. I never should have bothered you. Goodnight.'

I began to turn the knob, when I was stopped suddenly by a strong hand clamping down on my shoulder. _Percy._ I hadn't even heard him get up, but he was there standing so close, his breath dancing through my hair as he whispered.

'Nico, you can't keep dealing with these things by yourself. You have to tell _someone_. You obviously trust me; you revealed most of it too me. Why not a little more?

Goddammit, he had me there. It wasn't like I could say 'No sorry, can't tell you who I love because it's you and I don't want you to know' – that _might_ be an invalid sort of argument. What could I do? How could I resolve this?

There was only one real option.

I just had to tell him. Just tell him how I feel. Just do it.

I closed my eyes, winced, and let the words fall from my lips.

'It's Jason.'

…

Wait, what the fuck did I just say?!


	2. The Confusion

**A/N**

**So … I'm back! After a month of patient waiting, I finally have for you … the next chapter of ATOTOEW! (Do you love me, or do you love me?)**

**But all things aside, I seriously can't believe what a brilliant reception this story has gotten. You guys, seriously, *blushes* how can it be this popular after only a single chapter? I love all of you to pieces, and hope that, even though this chapter wasn't written under the same 'Kiss A Boy in Tokyo Town' inspired-sleepless-coffee-fuelled conditions as the first, that you'll all still enjoy it! **

** Nico **

I can't bring myself to look at Percy. Not that his reaction is first and foremost on my mind at the moment – I'm kind of too busy mentally kicking myself for the words that had just jumped from my mouth and were now sitting out in the open like some particularly ugly sort of verbal baby.

_'Jason? Really? That was the best you could come up with?'_

What was I, a fucking retard? Why didn't I choose, I don't know, Frank or Leo or, or anyone else, anyone who I could bear to be around, anyone who didn't know my fucking _secret_.

Maybe this was just a terrible dream. No – not a dream. A nightmare. A horrific nightmare. I would close my eyes and count to three and then I would wake up in my bed and it would all be good and there wouldn't be any Percy or Percy's room or Mythomagic statues or _Jason._

1 …. 2 ….. 3….

I crack open an eye cautiously, knowing what I'm going to see, but dreading it still.

It's the same as before. Same door, same wall, same Percy's hand weighing down my shoulder. Same same same.

Just to make sure, I try again, but the result doesn't change.

_Shit._

Well, I'm certainly not going to make the first move. Bloody Jackson can do that. He was the one who was so fucking concerned, with his puppy-dog eyes and understanding expressions. He _made_ me do it. Really, this was all his fault. Everything's always his fault. I don't even like him anymore. It was only a stage. I'm over it, really, I've moved on to … Frank. Yeah Frank, totally. We're a thing now. Percy doesn't even figure on my radar anymore. At all.

Maybe if I wish really, really hard it'll come true.

Sadly, the Jackson in question doesn't give me enough time to summon a genie. Instead, he chooses to grip my other shoulder (Both shoulders? Really? Was that completely necessary there Percy? What are you trying to do, make me spontaneously combust?) and gently turn me until we're facing one another. I only meet his gaze for a second, but it's long enough for me to read the all-too-obvious emotions plastered across his face.

Surprise, sadness, sympathy, and probably lots of other emotions that probably also start with 's'.

His tone, when he speaks, is understanding.

'Nico, I – I never even realised. How long have you been having these – these feelings for him? I mean, it can't have been too long ago, because we only met recently but …' he trails off, obviously expecting me to jump in and reply. Perhaps he thinks that teenage-schoolgirl syndrome will overcome me and I'll suddenly feel the need to divulge every single aspect of my (rather lacking) romantic life, ranging from the very first time I saw Jason and fell madly in love, to this moment and my inner turmoil as I struggled with the demons that were my emotions.

I'd be all too happy to comply, if only there were actually anything to tell.

'Uh well …' I rack my brain for something suitably romantic as I awkwardly manoeuvre myself away from Percy and his strong, warm hands. Gaze carefully pinned to the scuffed toes of my shoes, I sift through all of my encounters with Jason.

Up until the unspeakable incident, I drew a blank.

Jason had never really figured on my radar. Admittedly, my radar was basically Percy, but Hazel often made an appearance, and, very occasionally, Annabeth, Jason, however … he was just that slightly annoying, over emotional, let's-ask-everyone-about-their-feelings guy who flew around looking all intense and sky-godly.

I'd started to take more notice of him after the situation-which-must-not-be-dwelt-on had occurred, mainly to check that he wasn't planning on revealing my secrets to the universe anytime soon, but I hadn't really learnt much about him. Yes, he was Thalia's brother, and he was dating Piper. Also he was blond. That was about it.

This could be potentially difficult.

I decided to choose the star-crossed-schoolgirl angle and just run with it.

'Well … the first time I really noticed him was; well it was the day you guys rescued me actually.'

This was going to be a long conversation. Percy, however, seemed totally prepared for that fact. Routine, unsuspicious glances informed me that he was now leaning against a wall, arms behind his head, a pose which was made his arm muscles bulge in a torturous way, leaving me slightly light headed, as he nodded with an engaged expression.

Sighing inwardly, I continued with my spiel.

'I'd seen him at Camp Jupiter a few times, but only from a distance, and I didn't really know anything about him. But, well, I'd been sitting in that jar for ages, and I thought I was going to die … but then … I looked up and I saw him. And then I knew it would be alright. I knew that he would protect me.'

These words aren't a lie. That _was_ how I'd felt sprawled below that giant, when I looked up, only to see the face of my saviour above me.

But it hadn't been Jason the emotion were directed towards.

There's a stabbing pain in my chest as I think this, as I realise what I've done. My chance to tell Percy, to let him know how much he really meant to me; I'd thrown it away again. And now I was in much the same situation I had been before I stepped foot in this room.

In reality, this is worse. Yes, Percy no longer thought that I was in love with his girlfriend, and I _had_ admitted the fact that I was, ugh, must I say it, _gay …_ but now he thought I was in love with a guy I barely knew.

I was suddenly struck by the intense need to find the nearest brick structure and repeatedly smash my head against it.

My potential brain damage ration is drastically decreased as Percy opens his mouth to speak, obviously having taken my silence as a sign that I was finished instead of the silent freak-out that it really was.

'Well, ah, well I can't say I expected that. Then again, all of this is a little … unexpected … you say you had, uh, _feelings_ for him since we saved you in Rome? I'd thought it was a little more recent, maybe when you both went to see Cupid? You seemed a closer after –'

I tune out as soon as he says the 'C' word. Of course he had to mention it. Of course he had to remind me of the most horrifyingly embarrassing thing that I've ever had to go through. I can feel my face beginning to heat up just at the thought; even I'm not entirely sure whether it's in anger or embarrassment. A bit of both, to be honest.

I restrain my feelings, something which I'd become a master at a long time ago, and listen in again.

'There was something _different_ about you after that, I think. Did he find out or something? I mean, does he know?'

Safe to say, no, Jason had no idea about my newly developed, purely fictional, feelings for him. Oddly enough, the topic had never really come up in conversation. I wondered how that one would go. 'Hey Jason, you know how you found out that thing about me, and you were super supportive about it and wanted me to reveal all my deepest secrets and fears to you. Well, it's really good that you feel that way, because now, guess what? I'm madly, head-over-heels in love with you and everything and now I think we should probably go have hot naked sex because that's what supportive friends do, right?

No. Wrong. Very, very wrong.

'No, thank the gods, he doesn't.' I reply gladly, nodding my head and smiling in (completely sincere) relief.

Percy's expression too, is thankful, most likely glad that he's not going to end up as some awkward messenger between Jason and I. He steps away from the wall, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder and staring deep into my eyes.

'Nico, I'm really glad that you trust me enough to come tell me these things.' he says to me with a smile.

I think I might faint.

Backing up, I almost fall over my own feet in my effort to remove myself from his grip, from the light of his smile, from the depths of his eyes, and this room which suddenly seems absurdly, stupidly small.

'Well ah, thankyou for this, and, uh, you know, listening and everything. It's been … it's been great. We'll have to do it again sometime and all …'

And with that I take the final step over the threshold, to freedom, slamming the door shut in Percy's smiling face.

I lean against the wall outside, attempting to regain some mild form of composure. I discover that I'm breathing heavily - all these stressful encounters have left me short of breath. I bend over, one arm supporting me and the other on my waist. After giving myself sufficient time to de-fluster, I straighten, running a hand through my hair. I'm about to stride off down the hallway, back to the safety of my room and the pure bliss of sleep, when the door swings open once more, Percy silhouetted in the doorway. I'm shaken up all over again, at the sight of that leanly muscular chest, of that tousled dark hair, of that leanly muscular chest, of those sea-green eyes, and, of course, that leanly muscular chest. I fear he's going to subject me to more understanding gazes and gripping-of-shoulders - however, he simply shoots me another grin, teeth glowing in the dark, and speaks.

'Oh, uh, Nico, it's obvious you kind of don't want to talk at the moment, but I just want to let you know … if you ever do then I'm here for you. Yeah … that's all.'

Having finished his supportive-bro speech, he disappeared back inside, door closing with far less force than I had utilised.

He's gone, and I'm left grimacing at the block of wood standing between us once again; a position I find myself in far too often.

I should really go to bed now, fall into the abyss of sleep, perhaps forever. But I know if I do, I'll be practically alone – my only company will be thoughts of Percy. And no company is better than that which makes you want to rip your own heart out and offer it to the object of your affections in the hope that it'll impress them.

A short stint out on the deck is beginning to sound really attractive.

I make my way through the darkened corridors, occasionally almost bumping into walls. There _is_ torches dotted all around, but they've been dimmed to the extreme, in order not to wake all the sane people who are busy sleeping. My way gets easier as I near the deck – weak rays of almost-sunlight are filtering down through portholes to dance across the toes of my shoes. Stopping at one of the circular windows to steal a glance outside, I decided that it must be nearing dawn, judging by the colour of the sky.

I climb the final steps, pausing at the top in order to wrench open the door. A blast of wind hits me as soon as I step foot outside, buffeting me. I can't feel it through my thick jacket, but I shiver anyway, shoving my hands deep into my pockets. Shouldering the door closed, I turn and gaze around. To every side, grey sky stretches, just making the transition from darkness to light. It's still not late enough for the sun to truly be rising, but wispy hints of pink hint at what's to come.

The wind pulls at my hair, tiny hands clasping at my clothes, calling me, dragging me to the edge. I comply, following their urging, one foot after the other, until I reach the railing and lean over. The water is an inky black, lights occasionally glinting off the smooth, calm surface. Poseidon and Zeus must be in good moods tonight – maybe they were both communally celebrating their sons ruining my life.

Pulling my hands from their cosy nests, I cross my arms over the railings, bending down in order to rest my chin on them. With a sigh, I close my eyes, turning my face until my cheek leans on a pillow of arms. My eyes flutter shut as I breathe in deeply, the cool wind licking at my skin. I can feel myself drifting, falling, spiralling into nothingness. Darkness is around me, all traces of light, hidden from view. I am about to give in, to surrender to this night, when, suddenly, a hand grips my shoulder, pulling me back, saving me.

Blinking aside the dregs of sleep, I shake off the dream. I've slipped down to the deck, back against the railings and legs splayed out before me. With a yawn, I scrub the back of my hand across my eyes, looking hazily around me.

Only to discover that the whole hand-on-my-shoulder thing hadn't just been a creepy dream.

Jason kneels at my side, strong, tanned and glad in a purple shirt. His expression is one of concern, hidden behind a tacky façade of bromanship.

'Hey buddy, how're you doing?' he asked with an easy grin, the little scar on his upper lip curling in a way that, in my sleep-saturated state, seemed a little cute.

I yawn again, struggling to hide it behind an arm, and shake my head to get rid of the hair which had managed to migrate into my eyes while I rested.

'Uhh, I'm fine.' I reply groggily, thinking that there was something wrong with this conversation, I just wasn't entirely sure what.

My partner-in-speech looks unnecessarily happy for what still appears to be a rather early hour of the morning. Hazily, I notice that the hair is growing back in on the strip that singed off after he got shot at. It still looks a little weird at the moment though, sort've like he slipped _really badly_ while shaving and managed to catch the side of his head on the way out.

He pulls his hand back from my shoulder and runs his hand across it, an unconscious movement I'd noticed he'd recently developed. His bicep flexed as he did this, offering me a rather pleasant view. I mean, it wasn't Percy, but I could appreciate still appreciate the beauty of others, even if it didn't rise to sea-demigod level. I mean, Jason was pretty attractive and all, a little too blond and touchy-feely, but physically, there wasn't anything he didn't have going –

Oh Shit.

I throw myself sideways in a fashion that probably looks rather comical to outsiders, scurrying backwards, as far away from the horrific monster which now sits before me.

_I told Percy I was in love with this guy._

The thoughts that run through my mind all have something to do with murder, either my own, or others. I'm filled with the same sort of sensation I believe one would be subjected to if one had been stuck repeatedly with hundreds of pins, over and over again. So basically acupuncture, but without the foreknowledge that this was apparently going to sooth you.

Hiding my face in my hands, I attempt to contain the inner anguish which is threatening to surge up and forcefully exhume itself from my mouth, a feeling which is unpleasant, to say the least. Really, I'm just full of unpleasant sensations at the moment, the worst of them being the fact that I'm still finding Jason physically attractive, even with my current horrification.

No. No I'm not. Not at all. NOT AT ALL.

How was I even meant to pretend to be in love with this guy when I couldn't freaking spend two minutes in his presence without wanting to spew chunks? What was I going to do? I couldn't cope with this, couldn't cope with being so close to Percy and yet having to pretend I didn't have any feelings for him, couldn't cope with this charade. What was I going to do?

What was I going to do?

I – I could just leave. Go now. Pack my things, shadow travel out of here, no one would even notice for a few hours and by then I'd be long gone. I'd done it before, I could do it again. It would be easy. Just make my way below ground, hide out in Hades' Palace for a while. They wouldn't – they wouldn'tfollow me. There I could be safe, be free from Percy and Jason and all the shit that they brought along with them.

_Free. _I could be _free._

_'Still hiding. You do not have the strength.' _

Cupid's voice cuts through me, and I'm sent crashing to the ground, pressing my face to my knees, curling up, hands clapped over my ears in an attempt to block out the words that I know are coming.

'_And so you run away again. From your friends, from yourself.' _

I hear myself yelling back, the rage, the terror, in my voice almost palpable.

_'I don't have friends! I left Camp Half-Blood because I don't belong! I'll never belong!'_

And I know it's true. I'm not really a part of this group – they're the seven. I'm just Nico, the awkward tag along, the scary kid who freaks everyone out and never really talks. And it's all my fault. I'm unapproachable, I'm angry, and I fuck up everything I touch.

All my fault all my fault all my fault.

He was right, I'm not strong enough, I can't cope with this, can't deal, it makes my head spin and my chest grown tighter and I can't fucking _think_.

There's hands on my shoulder now, clasping me, grabbing me, pulling me closer, until I'm rising, rising, rising and I can feel myself bumping along, arms dangling, head resting on someone's chest. I should open my eyes, should see what's going on, compose myself, but I can't I can't because I'm useless and afraid and _Percy _Percy why do you have to … what did I do wrong, where did I screw it up and dear gods why does it hurt so much this pain in my chest is grabbing me and squeezing me and there isn't enough air in my lungs and oh gods

I shoot upright, heart pounding and head spinning, tangled in bedsheets. Looking around wildly, I see unfamiliar walls, unfamiliar shelves, unfamiliar pictures. Where am I? How the fuck did I get here?

Throwing the quilt aside, I struggle to get up from the bed, find myself caught, the covers grasping at me, pulling me down. With a thud, I hit the ground, outstretched arms breaking my fall. I disentangle my legs, and scramble to the middle of the room, pushing myself to my feet, staggering to the door. The doorknob is slippery beneath my fumbling, sweaty hands, but it turns eventually, suddenly giving out beneath me and sending me stumbling into the hallway. Now I'm running, gasping for air, gaze still unfocused, as I dash through hallways that never seem to end. Perhaps this is a maze, a maze, a maze like Pasiphae's, and because I escaped hers they've trapped me down here forever to die.

I round a corner and stop, sucking air into my lungs, leaning against a wall, scrubbing my eyes with the back of a hand.

And then I hear it.

Footsteps. Behind me.

They're coming.

I'm running again but then there's a hand on my shoulder and a chest against mine and arms wrapped around me and a voice whispering in my ear.

'It's alright. It's okay. Everything's fine. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I scared you. Everything's going to be okay, yeah? It'll all be fine.'

The voice is soothing and the chest is strong, so I collapse into it. I try to remember the last time someone hugged me like this, comforted me like this. It was Bianca, probably. She used to stroke my hair and sing me to sleep, old songs, songs that neither of us ever recalled learning, but both knew. Perhaps our mother had taught them to us, perhaps we'd heard someone sing them in the Lotus Casino. It didn't matter, the meaning behind the words was the same. _I am with you. You are safe, as long as we're together._

But now Bianca was gone and I was alone and no one had held me in their arms like this for so long.

I drift in and out of consciousness, entirely unaware of time progression or what's happening around me. Ignorance is bliss, however, bliss can only last so long. Eventually, one time when I resurface, I am fully awake, fully myself again.

And then I catch sight of the large amount of purple hovering before my eyes and realise the fact that motherfucking Jason has his arms around me and is crooning like I'm a baby bird.

Pushing him away roughly, I step back, making certain not to make eye contact. My mind is racing, and I can tell by the sudden heat rush to my cheeks that I'm currently the approximate shade of a tomato.

Fucking hell di Angelo, what the fuck is wrong with you?

As if my situation could get any worse … oh god, if someone had _seen_ us … I would actually _die_ from embarrassment - or rather, I would kill someone. Preferably the superman-wannabe who now stood before me.

I sneak a glance at him, only to discover that he does not look at all sorry for his actions. He doesn't care that he's subjected me to one of the most humiliating experiences of my life. He just looks concerned.

_'Of course he does, you just fucking wigged out in front of him. You're acting like a bloody mental patient, what sort of treatment do you expect?'_

Jason is the one to break the silence, and I look away, at the floorboards, at my shoes, at the wall, anywhere but him.

'Nico … I – I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you, I just didn't want to leave you up on deck where anyone could see, so I took you down to my room. I shouldn't have left, but it was only for half an hour, I was just telling everyone that I was feeling ill so that I could stay with you, and then Piper came and, um, wanted to come downstairs with me, and I had to convince her not to, and oh gods Nico I'm sorry.'

His tone is genuine and I know he meant well, but even though I know that I'm not going to tell him because I'm a shit friend and a failure as a person in general. Instead, I just stand there silently, letting him beat himself up over something that is entirely my fault.

_It was worse this time. It gets worse every time it happens again. What'll happen next time, when you're alone? What will you do when there's no Jason to swoop you up and save the day?_

I push those thoughts away, lock them deep down inside, ignore them. The less I think about it, the less chance there is of it happening. I just have to stay focused. Stay calm. Just don't think about it.

Jason's voice sneaks back into my mind, forcing me to listen, to take in what he's saying.

'Nico, I understand if you don't want me prying, but … are, are you okay? Was it something to do with Percy? Did something happen, did something go wrong?'

Yes something went wrong. Something went terribly, terribly wrong. I fell in love with him. I fell in love with him and it's slowly destroying me as I watch him everyday with Annabeth, each touch, each fleeting glance, because I know he loves her and she loves him, and they're happy with each other and he won't ever look at me that way.

'No, uh, no I'm fine. Uh, I – um, sorry you had to do that, I'll get out of your way now, I'll leave you alone. Th – thanks. I guess.'

I turn, make my way down the hallway, following the path that I now recognise; no longer is it the frightening place of only minutes ago. I expect to hear the sounds of someone following me, feel a hand on my shoulder as Jaosn tries to get me to talk once more, but I am left unhindered; apparently he's decided it would be best for me to be alone, or perhaps he's more shaken watching me than he's let on. A little bit of disappointment bubbles up inside of me, but I push it down. I'm glad, I'm glad for the chance to be alone, to sort my head out. It's a good thing.

I'm a little unsteady on my feet, but I hold my head high until I reach the storage closet that now serves as my room. Cracking the door open, I step through, letting it swing shut behind me. I sigh, and sink to the ground, defeated.

This wouldn't go unmentioned. Jason would want an explanation; one I wasn't willing to provide.

**A/N**

**Soooo **

**I think I just lost half my original audience :)**

**Yes, I know this has somehow morphed from a bromance crackfic to a hardcore Jasico story (and legit I don't even ship Jasico so don't ask me what the fuck's going on) but I firmly believe in, well … letting the story take you where it will. So that is what I am doing and I apologise if you were looking for something happy and angstless – that ****_is _****what I set out to write, but the angst just flows through me like it's my life force or somethin**

**Please feel free to abuse me because I know it is kind of a shitty, unexpected plot development, but hey, all you Jasico-shipping-readers … strap yourself down, because you're in for a hell of a ride**


	3. The Clash

**A/N**

**Well, this is a little late. I'm so veryveryvery sorry. But I hope that doesn't mean you enjoy it any less, and just think of it as a Christmas present (possibly a late one or an early one for some of you? I don't know how time/the universe in general works)**

**Anyways, the angst has been turned down in this chap (somewhat) which leads to us exploring the wingman angle more ;) hope you all enjoy it!**

** Nico **

The two fucktards decided to leave me alone for the entirety of the next day. And the one after that.

I should have been thankful, really; even a facsimile of peace and quiet was better than full on uproar. However, I was far too on-edge to enjoy it. Every footstep, every look, heck, every fucking _breath_ in my direction sent me scurrying off, to the crows' nest or my storage closet. I was just waiting for one of them to say something.

But days passed with no interaction. Maybe Percy glanced at me more often than usual, or Jason tried even harder to coax me into participating, but it was easy enough to convince myself that nothing weird was up, everything was fine, it was all good.

Until one fateful Saturday, barely two days shy of the day on which I had made my horrific declaration, and subsequent mental breakdown.

As soon as I heard the knock on my door, I _knew. _There was no doubt that it was either Jason or Percy; the only time anyone bothered to make contact with me was when it was my turn to take over watch, and it was the completely wrong time of day for that shit.

The only question now was: Who?

I wasn't sure which would be worse. The situation with Jason had been terrible, and embarrassing, but standing in front of Percy and openly talking about the fact that I was the star pitcher for the other team?

Nup. Nupnupnup.

And as if _that_ wasn't bad enough, the batter receiving my throw was the son of the sea god himself. Who now thought I had a thing for tall, blond, and emotional.

It didn't take long for this to become too much, so I made a decisive decision and took the least emotionally-scarring course of action. In other words, I shadowtravelled the fuck out of there.

The air up in the crows nest was a lot cleaner, and didn't carry with it the heavy threat of awkward conversation, something I was entirely grateful for. Sighing quietly, I leant against the cool metal of the rail, glad, as always, for my thick jacket. My breath misted in the air around me, fragile white puffs dancing through the air. Watching them, I thought back to a long time ago, when Bianca was still … here … and we would play at dragons and princesses and knights in shining armour.

My first instinct was to push the memory down, lock it back away, but I forced myself to dwell on it. I had been doing this a lot lately, making myself think about her without feeling any anger or animosity to any possibly-involved-third-party-who-must-not-be-named. There was still sadness; the sadness was always there. But the other, darker emotions that so often came with it – they were what I was working to control. I _had_ gotten better; for most occurrences, anyway. There were just some things I still couldn't dwell on. More, ah, _recent_ events. Best not to think about those. At all.

Obviously, this set me on the verge of thinking about them.

I clapped my hands over my ears and shook my head vigorously, as if that might expel any treacherous thoughts. I was so caught up in denial that I didn't realise there was a person behind me until their hand came crashing down on my shoulder.

For the umpteenth time in as many days, I spun around, furious, demanding, wanting to know exactly who was intruding and why.

Absurdly, my first thought when I saw him was 'It's far too cold to be wearing a t-shirt.' It was, however, replaced all too quickly by 'Fucking Romans and their utter morality.'

He had come. It had finally happened, and I knew exactly what he was going to say. As he opened his mouth, I could just _sense _it, could _feel_ the sympathy practically radiating from him. It made me so fucking angry. I didn't need anyone to be sorry for me. I'd had plenty of that. What I _needed_ was for Jackson to suddenly understand his true feelings for me, i.e. complete and utter _love, _mixed with just the right amount of _please-bang-me-against-a-wall _that every perfect relationship couldn't survive without. Unfortunately, however, this realisation didn't seem to be forthcoming any time this century, so I would just have to settle for people leaving me alone, my secondmost wish. Just, just leave me alone. That's what I wanted. It was.

I sent a glare dashing towards Jason, pulling away roughly.

'What do you want now.' I growled, taking a step back, putting as much distance between the two of us as I could in this all-too-small space.

Blondie obviously didn't get my physical cues, or simply choose to ignore them, as he stepped forward to place himself in front of me. I found my back pressed against the railing, and yet he was still too close, taking up too much of my personal space. Cringing, I ducked my head to the side and scrunched up my limbs in order to make myself as small as possible.

I could see the flicker of movement as he crossed his arms, and I knew he'd have his 'serious' face on. The tone in his voice was heavy, each word weighing me down even as he grew lighter.

'Nico. I have to talk to you.'

Yep, didn't see that one coming. Now what came next should be …

'I know you probably don't want to, but this is serious.'

Jason didn't disappoint. He carefully followed the supportive-bro-speech guidelines, delivering the necessary words with bucketfuls of unnecessary emotion.

Raising my arms, I sent him back a step or two, making certain to touch as little of his toned chest as possible. Fingertips only, pressing lightly, but he got the message. Withdrawing, I replied.

'Grace, I have no desire to speak on this topic, nor will I ever. It would be a much better use of your time to just stop trying now. You saw me at a moment of weakness, and I'd rather we pretend that it never happened, in order to preserve at least a little of my masculinity.'

The Roman in question raised his hands to ward off the attack, expression defensive.

'Nico, I'm not here to abuse you, or to ask you to confess your … current situation to Percy …'

Too late. Already went and fucking did that.

'… I just wanted to say that, as your friend, I want you to be happy.'

I winced a little at his use of the 'f' word. Jason was alright, and I'd rather spend time in his company than that of most of the inhabitants of this fucking ship, but there was no way I would consider us _friends._

He was still talking, completely disregarding my utter lack of interest.

'Which is why I have decided to do everything I can to make him like you. As a good friend, at the very least, but more, if that can be achieved.'

'Wait – wait, _what?'_

He was going to try and set me up with Percy? _What?_ Our 'friendship' had already progressed far enough for him to consider himself a suitable _wingman?_

Oh gods, please no.

Having taken my cry of astonishment for a completely serious question, Jason had begun to repeat himself.

'I'm going to do my best to make Percy have the same sort of … feelings for you as you do for him.'

'Yeah, I got that. It's just – you would do that? You would be fine with potentially breaking up him and Annabeth, the two practical _soul mates,_ who've had a thing for one another since forever, and only just made their way out of fucking _Tartarus; _you would be okay with _tearing them apart?'_

Shifting from foot to foot, he looked a little less certain about this than he had before.

'Well, uh, when you put it that way … I don't want to hurt either of them. But you're hurting too, and you have been for a long time. I was just thinking, well, that Percy's probably never considered you as a potential, uh, partner, and maybe he would if he knew how great you really were…'

Oh yes. So Jackson was just magically going to wake up and smell the roses, after all these years, and toss aside _the love of his life _for some scrawny little Italian who wasn't really even very nice to him. Yep, I really saw that one happening. Except, oh, for one tiny issue.

'Percy's not gay.'

I was very, very, very, very convinced of that fact. I had never even seen him so much as glance sideways at another guy. His eyes were fixed, most literally, 'straight' ahead: on Annabeth. Jason could try all he liked, but Percy would never stop chasing after his goal, and he would never risk stepping off that path if it meant he might loose her.

'Well, not that we know of; but, if he had the chance he might discover that, well, that he could like, um, like _boys_ just as much as girls.'

Bisexual? I suppose it was vaguely plausible. Most guys would try to hide all signs of it, and if you also liked chicks, it wasn't really an issue; you just chose to acknowledge only one side of your sexuality. People could, potentially, go their entire lives not even aware of the fact that they could find their own gender attractive if they really thought about it. Maybe, maybe, if he got put in a situation where he was forced to think of a boy as a romantic prospect, he would discover that he could.

But that still wouldn't remedy the Annabeth situation. He would never leave her. _Never._

I turned away from him, moving to clutch the railing, knuckles whitening.

'Don't even bother. It's not going to happen.'

My shoulders were seized from behind, hands wrenched away, as I was spun roughly around, to find Jason staring at me, expression determined.

'You're right. With that sort of defeatist attitude, he will _never_ like you. But, but if you have hope; if you just _try, _then that's when it will happen. You have to try!'

I tore myself away from his grip, feeling my expression grow dark. _Try?_ What did he think I'd been doing ever since I first realised how I felt. I was _trying;_ trying not to fucking destroy both of our lives!

'I am trying! I'm just screwed up, alright?! Jackson's never going to look twice at me, I know that, you know that! He's had that option for the past three years, and never once has he taken it!'

Jason looked me square in the eye as I stopped my tirade. Chest heaving, I glared back.

'You say you're trying, that you've _tried. _But you haven't; you aren't. You're just running. Running and running and running. Is that really how you want to live, never facing the issue? Because that's where your life is going at the moment. You love him, he doesn't feel the same way. So what? Plenty of people in the world have the same issue. You're nothing special. But the difference between you and most of them is that they _don't give up. _And maybe they come out the worst for it; or maybe they come out _better._ It's chance; a flip of a coin. It can go either way; unless you don't even play the game.'

Well.

That was surprisingly deep.

And also not changing my mind. I would leave him to his fucking game, thankyou very much. I would rather live knowing that there was a 0.02 % chance that something might happen between Percy and I someday, in a distant time, in a distant land, then knowing with absolute certainty that he would never return my feelings.

Grace could very well do whatever he fucking wanted to; that didn't mean I would thank him for it.

Crossing my arms, I tried to step back, but the issue with being in a crows' nest is that there's a very limited amount of space to retreat into.

'I don't give a damn what you do. Just don't involve me in any of your schemes.'

Stonily, I glared at him from beneath my fringe, daring him to argue, to just make a _tiny _little negative comment.

Unfortunately, for once, he chose to disappoint me.

With a nod and a thoughtful expression, he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets.

'Well. That sounds about fair. So I, I have permission to continue with this?'

As much as it pained me to give him leave to go and potentially fuck my life up, he wouldn't let me go on my way until I did so. At least he'd be off irritating Percy if he carried through with this; maybe they could just have big, soulful conversations with one another, and leave me out of it. Also … also … I couldn't help but think, maybe he's right? Maybe Percy could like me, if given the motivation? Maybe, maybe we could maybe be together?

I mentally slapped some sense into myself. There was no sense continuing down that path; it would only mean that, when the heartbreak finally came – or at least, more so than it already had – it would be even more painful.

'Whatever.' I waved a hand in dismissal. 'Go do whatever you bloody want. Just don't drag me into it, alright?'

'Sure, sure. Of course. I wouldn't do that if you asked me not to.' came the ready assurances.

Rolling my eyes, I sighed. Like hell he wouldn't.

'Well, uh, I'll be going now … leave you to it.'

I chose not to reply, but let the air of 'finally' settle across me like a shroud. Grace obviously got the message, as he began to edge backwards towards the ladder; perhaps not the safest idea, but I suppose when you can fly you loose a little of your sensitivity towards heights.

He glanced downwards as he reached the top of the ladder, and, as I watched, his face clouded.

'What?' I demanded, stepping forward, off-put by his sudden change of expression. 'What is it? What can you see?'

'Jackson.' came the answer.

I stepped back, feeling as though I had been punched in the chest; air pushed out of me with an 'omph.' I could feel as my heart sped up, and my palms got sweatier.

I couldn't have this conversation. I couldn't have this conversation. Icouldnthavethisconversation.

Glancing around frantically, I looked for somewhere I could shadowtravel, a place from which I could get the fuck out of here.

But Grace was at my side and his hand was on my shoulder and his blue, blue eyes were looking into mine.

'Stay.' softly, gently, the word emerged from his mouth.

'Stay. You're going to have to talk to him sometimes. Better to accept that now than live in constant denial. Anyways,' here he straightened, relinquishing his grip upon me. 'If you keep running, he'll get suspicious. He'll wonder why, and next thing you know, he'll be fully aware of your feelings for him.'

I got the vibe that Jason was beginning to figure out how I ticked. Appealing to my better nature didn't work; scaring the fuck out of me with completely plausible yet horrific situations did.

'Whatever.' This came out as an angry growl, a fact I could live with quite easily.

'Well … best of luck!'

The bloody bastard waved and smiled at me as he began the descent downwards, disappearing slowly, rung by rung.

Glad for my (very brief) reprieve, I sighed and pushed the hair back off my face, collecting myself. Percy thought I was in love with Jason? Well let's look on the bright side …

There is no fucking bright side.

Jesus fucking Christ.

I was busy attempting to exhume my very soul from my body when Percy's shaggy dark head became visible at the top of the ladder. Quickly, I straightened, combed my hair down, straightened my shirt, and adopted a suitably brooding and moody pose.

He emerged fully into my line of sight, hair windswept and shirt crumpled, Looking a little confused. The reason for this became obvious when he spoke.

'That was Jason?' he asked, jerking his head in the vague direction of the ship deck. I assumed that this was meant rhetorically. It was quite obviously Jason; there wasn't anyone nearly as blond on this shop; Annabeth got closest, but hers' was more of a yellowy-blond, not quite as unusual as Jason's newly-sun-bleached-white-blond. Also, they had some major anatomical differences. The most obvious being the fact that he was a guy and she was a girl. Surely even Percy, with his fabled seaweed-brain-ness, couldn't miss that fact.

Apparently I was correct, as he plunged right in, without waiting for an even vaguely affirmative answer.

'I've been looking for you.'

I was fully aware of that fact. Jason had turned up in the crows' nest mere seconds after I had shadowtravelled. There was no physically possible way he could have crossed the distance from my bedroom to here in that time span. Which meant that the mysterious door-knocker had been Jackson himself.

'Oh. Really.'

I did my best to sound incredibly bored and not at all like someone who was about to spontaneously combust.

'Yeah, I went to your room, but you weren't there. Leo mentioned that he often sees you up here, so, well, this is where I came … but I saw you and Jason, and so I thought I'd let you two talk…'

Yeah. Thanks. Thanks a heap. You too Valdez. Thankyou all.

The suggestive trailing off made it obvious that he was waiting for me to explain the topic matter of Jason and I's little talk. Not going to happen buddy. Not going to happen at all.

After a long silence, somewhat smug on my half, but – hopefully anyway – awkward on his, Jackson finally spoke.

'So, uh, good news?'

A noncommittal sound was his only answer. He could talk all he wanted, but that didn't mean I was going to be an easy conversational partner. Quite the opposite, in fact.

'Well, Nico, it seems you've got over the talkativity that had struck you down last week, so I'll speak and you can just listen.'

Well. That could work for me; depending entirely on what he _did _say.

'You've had it hard. I know that better than anyone. Your mother, your sister … you've had it even worst than most of us, and I know that some of that was due partly to me. Bianca … I still feel bad about her sometimes. And I know that you blame me for her death, and that's why we don't get along as well anymore.'

You mean, you _think _you know that's why we don't get along anymore. Luckily for me, you have no idea of the _actual_ reason for our currently tense relationship. Hopefully this wasn't going to be a complete re-hash of the conversation we had just after … just after Bianca died.

'But you trusted me enough to admit your secret to me. And that makes me really happy.'

I hope that I'm not blushing. Fucking Jackson; with a single sentence, he can dash aside all of my internal struggle over telling him.

It made him happy. That was enough.

'And I've been thinking a lot about your problem over this past week, and I've decided this: you chose to come to me, and that means it's my responsibility to help you. I want to make sure that you're happy. That's what friends do, right?'

This conversation was beginning to sound far too familiar. And if it ended up going in the same direction as its counterpart …

'That's why I'm really glad you've admitted these feelings for Jason. Because the two of you are suited to one another; his ability to look on the bright side of things, and his kindness; these things would be really good for you.'

Holy fuck.

Holy fuck no.

Grace and I? Me and Grace? Suited to one another? WHAT? WHAT?

What in fucking hell was Percy going on about? He couldn't be serious.

We would be _the worst couple in the history of the universe._ He'd constantly want to have these deep and meaningful talks, and I'd just want to rip my head off the entire time. How could he even think…?!

Oblivious to me raging in the background, Jackson ploughed on.

'And because of that fact, I've decided that, if being with him is what you want, I'll help you achieve that.'

'What?!'

That one isn't even mental. I spit out the word as though it's poisonous, disgusted.

Percy looks confused at my actions, tilting his head sideways in that cute little way he has.

'Does the fact that I want to help you seem so strange to you? I know we've had our differences, and we still do, but I made a promise to your sister that I would look after you, and that's what I'm trying to do. I know that Jason's with Piper, and there's a large chance he has no interest in males in general, let alone you in particular. But I want to give him a chance to make that decision an educated one, to show him a possible perspective he may never have considered. I want to give him a chance. Is that okay?'

All the guys on this ship needed a fucking personality transplant. They were all so transfixed on fucking _chances._ Jason wanted to give Percy a chance, Percy wanted to give one to Jason. Why was no-one giving _me_ a chance? I wanted one too – a chance to keep my _fucking sanity._

But the _chances_ of that weren't looking very good at the moment.

'So, Nico, I just wanted to tell you that, and tell you I still support you, no matter what. We can talk anytime, alright? You know where to find me.'

He turned his back, heading for the ladder, leaving me standing there like a stunned mullet.

It appeared that I had just acquired a pair of wingmen. The two most fucking enthusiastic wingmen the universe had seen. The wingmen from hell.

I was so fucking screwed.

**A/N**

**So, I hope you all enjoyed that! I apologise for the fact that my Percy's a bit OOC; I've never been very good at writing him, as a character. I hope this turn of events pleases everyone, and if the next chapter goes the way I hope it will (dear gods please) it should be rather humourous :) **

**In other news, sadly, I'm going to have to change the updates to this to every two weeks; at the moment I'm writing 4 weekly-update fanfictions; at least 10 000 words a week D: along with any oneshots that suddenly take my fancy. Sorry to bore you with the sob story of my writing life, but I thought you might want a reason. **

**That is everything!**

**Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!**


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